


Press Restart

by lizwas



Series: Mouthful of Forevers [1]
Category: Gossip Girl (TV 2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Blair and Nate being pals, Chuck Bass is his own warning, Dan Humphrey is Not Gossip Girl, Dan goes to Rome and has a lot of Feelings, Endgame Dan Humphrey/Blair Waldorf, F/M, Gen, Humphrey sibling solidarity, Post-Season/Series 05 AU, because why...and how..., but like slow burn, dair - Freeform, furthering the gay agenda with bi Dan, like it's gonna be a while folks, post s5 finale, some angst is involved, sue sylvester voice: I am going to create an au that is so self indulgent..., this writer supports Jenny Humphrey rights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-31
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:20:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28446039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizwas/pseuds/lizwas
Summary: After the events of the season 5 finale, Dan tries to find a way to move forward."But as the days drag on, his rage loses wind. The adrenaline wears off and Dan is left feeling exhausted and hollow. The weight of his stresses and heartbreaks of the last two years have finally taken their toll, and he is tired to his bones."
Relationships: Dan Humphrey & Jenny Humphrey, Dan Humphrey/Original Male Character(s), Minor or Background Relationship(s), Nate Archibald & Blair Waldorf, Nate Archibald & Dan Humphrey, Nate Archibald/Original Female Character(s), chair (because I have to)
Series: Mouthful of Forevers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2148195
Comments: 24
Kudos: 37





	1. just broke the hell out of my heart

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Wrapped in Ribbons](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15759063) by [nevertothethird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevertothethird/pseuds/nevertothethird). 



> Hi all! These are the beginnings of this enormous s5 au that has been pinging around in my head for the past few weeks. 
> 
> While this is very much a Dair story, the beginnings of it turned out to be pretty Dan-centric, mostly because having to write anything about ch*ck makes me sad. 
> 
> It is very much inspired by all of the Dair fic I have inhaled during this pandemic. I want to give proper credit to as many as I can, but to all the writers that may be reading this: you have directly or indirectly inspired me to actually write this story: you are awesome and I admire you very very much.

It is Dan’s second week of his grand Roman summer writing retreat when he hits a wall—metaphorically and literally—that is, if Georgina shoving him up against a wall counts. 

During the first week he wrote nonstop, pouring his resentment onto paper. He opted for writing by hand, relishing in the kinesthetic feel of it, and later relishing in the pain, a physical manifestation of the way he was feeling, but eventually he had to give way to typing, the words coming too fast and his hand cramping too badly. He often worked through the night, unable to turn off his mind. He handed Georgina new pages in the late morning, just as she was waking up and just before he collapsed into bed. 

When he woke up midafternoon, she handed them back covered in the ink of her glitter gel pens, always asking for _more_. 

But as the days drag on, his rage loses wind. The adrenaline wears off and Dan is left feeling exhausted and hollow. The weight of his stresses and heartbreaks of the last two years have finally taken their toll, and he is tired to his bones. 

When Georgina asks him for new pages, he blames his lethargy on delayed jet lag, but she sees through him, and so, a new pattern emerges: she cajoles him in her usual way, trying to provoke him into writing, but instead he just retorts back, and answers every jab Georgina throws with a parry of his own. He can be as obstinate as she can, in fact, he suspects it’s why Georgina always storms back into his life: he is one of the few she deems stubborn and interesting enough to be a worthy opponent. 

They trade barbs until one of them kisses the other to shut them up, and then they move on to release their tension nonverbally. When they fuck it’s always furious, intense, and oddly cathartic, leaving them both drained, satisfied, and most of all, mercifully quiet. Dan remembers grudgingly how they always did have great physical chemistry, despite (or maybe because of) Georgina’s batshit tendencies. Dan spends days in this cycle of edits, arguments, and sex, and he tries his best to put everything he left in New York out of his mind. 

He isn’t always successful. He unsubscribed from Gossip Girl, but he’ll still find himself clicking through to check the Spotted map. When he sees the avatars for both Blair and Chuck hovering over Monte Carlo, he slams his computer shut and avoids the site for the rest of the summer. 

One night he finds himself alone in the apartment. It’s not that odd an occurrence. Every few days, Georgina gets restless and disappears, but she always comes back a day or two or three later, with a self-satisfied smirk and marks on her body that Dan didn’t put there. Dan likens the experience to living with the human equivalent of an outside cat.

Dan is weighing his choices between going out and drinking or staying in and drinking when his phone buzzes with a call from Jenny.

He stares at the screen, lit up with her caller ID photo. He had taken it the last time he’d seen her, in Hudson, helping her pack for her move to Central St. Martins. He’d teased her about being a pack-rat, and she’d responded just as she would have ten years ago: telling him to shut up and sticking out her tongue. 

He was afraid to hear her say “I told you so,” and had been dodging her calls ever since he left New York. Truthfully, he’d also been avoiding everyone’s calls, by everyone he means the only four people that care enough to try: Jenny, his parents, and Nate. In Nate’s case, he wasn’t sure he could stand to hear anything about the UES, and the people he left in it. As for his mom, it was the same reason he’d been ducking his sister. Alison had a natural built-in dislike for socialites, and he was not interested in her opinion of his socialite-defined and socialite-devastated love life. And with his dad: he knew if he answered he would end up telling him about the book he came here to write, and he knows that Rufus Humphrey would not approve. 

And so, Dan has taken a vow of radio silence, and it’s been working so far. He dismisses the call, and flings himself onto the bed. 

Only to have his phone light up again with Jenny’s teasing face, so he dismisses the call again. 

Jenny, apparently over his self-imposed blackout, calls him a third time. He sits up with a groan, braces himself, and answers the phone. He barely manages to get out a “hello” before—

“Where the _fuck_ have you been?!”

“Rome, where I was planning to be, I emailed you the itinerary didn’t I?”

 _Before_ , he planned for the two of them to stop over in London on their way home. He had a foolish optimistic notion that if he could get Jen and Blair to meet on neutral territory, and see how much the other had changed, that maybe they could get along. Despite how awful they had been to each other, Dan knew that through all of it ran a thread of mutual respect. 

Jenny, to her credit, did not react badly when Dan had told her he was dating Blair Waldorf. Even though he knew she had grown up and moved on, he was still expecting a Jenny Humphrey circa 2010 freak-out when he told her the news. Instead, she had simply said with a put-upon sigh: “I’ll love you no matter what, just let me state for the record that I think it’s a bad idea.”

Jenny exhales loudly on the other end of the line. “We’ve been worried. You haven’t taken anyone’s calls so you could’ve been at the bottom of the ocean for all we knew.”

“I’m pretty sure you would have heard about a plane crashing into the Atlantic regardless, Jen.”

She makes an exasperated noise. “You could have at least sent a text. ‘In Rome. Pizza’s great.’ Four words. Easy.”

“Sorry. It’s just been busy,” he lies.

Something about hearing Jenny’s voice makes him incredibly homesick. It is a little weird considering they haven’t lived under the same roof in years, and they’ve been in different countries for months, but something about her dressing him down brings him back to himself. It makes him homesick for the time when the two of them were kids, minds full of artistic ambitions and castles in the air, when he was certain that he had stories worth telling, which is why he’s dreading the moment she asks:

“How’s the new book coming?” He doesn’t really have an answer, or more accurately: he doesn’t want to tell her about what he came to Rome to write, maybe he can’t really write it after all.

“I don’t know, it feels like…” he pauses, struggling to find the right words (a common occurrence these days). “It’s like all the creativity has been sucked out of me.” 

It’s quiet on the other end of the line, then she says, “I’ve had that, you’ll get it back.”

He swallows, “What if I don’t?”

“Well, you can always go back to being a waiter.”

He laughs hollowly, and then after a pause he admits, “I came here with a book idea but... I’m not so sure if writing it is the right move.”

Jenny makes a noncommittal noise, indicating that he should continue. 

“This scorched-earth, exposé kind of writing...I don’t think I have it in me.”

“You’ll be okay big brother, let your Brooklyn DNA guide you to righteousness.”

He snorts at Jenny turning his old words against him. “I’ll try. I miss you, you know.”

“Then you should still visit when your program’s over. I may not have much room in this tiny-ass apartment, but I do have a couch.”

“How is all that going, by the way?”

Jenny takes the bait and launches into a long diatribe about her roommate, and Dan is relieved to shift the focus of the conversation away from him.

Once Jenny finishes her rant, she asks, “Have you talked to Dad lately?”

“Uh no,” Dan answers, “Why?” he asks, anxiety twisting in his gut.

“Oh of course not, because you’ve been ducking his calls too, right?” 

“Just tell me, Jen, is Dad okay?”

She sighs, “Yeah, he’s fine; I assume you heard about the apparent resurrection of Bart Bass?”

Dan’s jaw tightens. “I did.”

“Well, apparently, he rose from the grave, and Dad and Lily were on the ropes _again_ , but thankfully they came to their senses, _again_.”

“Oh,” Dan exhales in relief, “so they’re still together?” Dan hadn’t been sure they would make it when he had left, but he knows how happy they make each other, plus, a large part of him is selfishly pleased to hear that at least one Bass doesn’t get to win.

“Yep, but now Lily has to figure out how to deal with accidental bigamy.”

“Well, how much more difficult is an ex-husband coming back from the dead than an ex-husband who Munchausens you into a cancer relapse?”

Jenny snorts, “Men really are the worst, huh? Present company excluded, of course.”

He runs a hand over his face. “I don’t know about that, Jen,” he confesses, the ever-present guilt simmers deep in his stomach. “I’ve been kind of a shit person lately.”

“Oh, I didn’t mean you, I was talking about Eric.” Dan hears a faraway “hi” from his stepbrother through the receiver. “He just got in last night,” Jenny explains. 

“Well tell him ‘hey’ for me, okay?”

“I will. And you’ll be fine, Dan, just give it time,” she says, “and don’t be so hard on yourself, and call our parents, _and_ come and visit when your program’s done.”

“Okay, okay, fine,” he says, “you are so pushy.”

“As is my sisterly right.” 

They say their goodbyes and hang up, and Dan falls backwards onto the bed, sprawled out on his back. He’s not sure that he feels much better, but he does feel like he’s gained something resembling clarity. And with that miniature epiphany, he drifts off to sleep. 

When he wakes, he opens his eyes to find Georgina’s face inches away from his. 

“Aw, fuck,” He jumps slightly, rubbing at his eyes. “I thought we agreed you’d stop watching me sleep.”

“Sorry, sweetie,” she says, not the least bit apologetic, “but it’s not like I have anything else to look at. Don’t you have any new pages for me?” she purrs, reaching up to pet his hair. 

He pulls back, “Yeah, about that. Listen Georgina…”

“Oh, Christ, here it comes,” she groans dramatically.

“This book was a bad idea.” He stands up, moving across the room to create some distance.

“Bullshit. It may be the best idea you’ve ever had.”

He shakes his head, standing his ground. “I’m not going to write it, Georgina.” 

“God, Dan, you are so fucking boring when you have a conscience.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle. “Maybe so, but,” he takes a deep breath, “It’s just not what I want to write.”

“Then just what are you going to write, o great artiste?” she asks tauntingly, sauntering over to him. 

Dan blinks. “I don’t know.” He backs away from her, and repeats, “I don’t know.”

She scoffs as she reaches for her handbag, melodramatic to the end. “Whatever. Thanks for the orgasms, I guess.” The door slams shut behind her. 

“You’re welcome?” he says to the empty room.

Since the apartment was under Georgina’s name, Dan decides to err on the side of caution and move into the dormitories at the Institute, lest Georgina have him arrested for squatting, or send a Russian operative to kneecap him while he sleeps. He packs up quickly, and drops all the notes and drafts he wrote since he'd arrived in the garbage on his way out. 

Once settled at the Institute, Dan sets himself on muddling through the program as best as he can. He does try: he ekes out a couple short stories for group critique, he picks up playwriting again and drops it just as quickly, he starts outlines for plots that leave him feeling empty, and any poetry he attempts sounds plaintive and pathetic (that’s when _I do now_ and _what if I never love anybody more than I love Chuck_ rattle loudest in his brain, he alternates drowning them out with either grappa or Petrarch). 

When he gets tired of staring at blank pages and word processors, he explores the city. He finds the tunnels underneath the Capitolino, he wanders through the piazzas from the Forum to the Vatican, he spends the better part of one afternoon walking the length of the Via del Corso, he takes in the brands all up and down the street and tries desperately not to miss Blair. One night he stays out so late with the other artists at the institute that they end up watching the sunrise from atop Gianicolo Hill. Rome has an ancient, holy kind of beauty to it, and even though Dan feels stuck, in his mind, in his heart, in his blank documents, he still feels in awe of the place he is in. 

Rome also has another unexpected perk: no Gossip Girl. He had seen enough when he had first arrived in Italy to know that she had deemed him officially irrelevant. He supposed that one could only be stomped on by so many socialites before people gave up rooting for him. As a result, for the first time since he was sixteen, Dan’s movements and conversations aren’t fodder for the Manhattan masses. Dan revels in the knowledge that what he does in Rome won’t be held under a microscope for strangers to digest; his choices won’t be questioned by expensively dressed teenagers who accost him in Central Park. It strikes him that this is the first time his sex life won’t be held up to scrutiny either, which is probably why the thing with Maurizio happens. 

Maurizio is a painter and metal worker, and another fellow attending the Institute. They hit it off after Dan actually began attending the program, he takes an especial interest in helping Dan practice his Italian, and they often end up closing the bar down together after their colleagues turn in. He is handsome in a terribly typical Italian way—dark eyes, olive skin, crooked smile—and he’s such a relentless flirt that Dan cannot help but be charmed. One drunken makeout leads to another, which lead to mildly tipsy blowjobs, which result in completely sober trysts in Mo’s apartment in Trastevere. 

Dan has never been particularly tied to his sexuality, but this new development does cause him to wonder. He supposes there is an obvious reason for Maurizio’s appeal: he is in many ways an over-correction, as far removed from a certain 95-pound doe eyed ex-princess as possible. But, a significant part of the attraction is about being chased, being fucked, being almost passive—Dan finds it intoxicating. He has never felt wanted in this way before, and the feeling is new and exhilarating. And so he lets himself go with the knowledge that there’ll be no Gossip Girl blasts about it. And, though he is a very different person from Georgina, Mo serves a similar purpose by saving Dan from spending his nights alone.

And so the summer goes. Dan spends his days trying to write, and when that fails, he wanders. The part of him that is still the striver, the gifted scholarship student, is frustrated that he finds himself in the midst of this opportunity and appears to be wasting it. Dan can’t do much to reconcile that particular guilt either, but he tries by journaling everything he sees on his treks through the city, making notes on the landmarks, the art, the people that rush around him. He thinks it’s far too basic and uninspired for him to share in group critique, but it’s better than having written nothing at all. 

He spends his nights in the bed of his hot Italian artist, and in the evenings they and the other fellows at the institute become loyal diners at their favorite neighborhood trattoria. One night they stay so late that they are all but chased out of the establishment. The proprietor comes to their table with two bottles of the house wine as a bribe: _I give this, and you go_. Sufficiently persuaded, the group stumbles out into the July night. Dan and Maurizio split the bottle of red as they sit on the fountain steps in the Piazza Trilussa and listen to the current resident busker. 

Dan is drunk enough to boast, “You know, I can play better than that.” 

Mo laughs. “Mi piacerebbe lo guardare” he says lowly, before kissing his cheek. 

“Mmmm,” Dan returns the kiss with one his own, “but not right now, I am way too drunk.”

Dan isn’t sure who suggests it, or why, but that night their little group also decides to walk all the way from Trastevere to the Colosseum. The trek takes a bit of time, they’re all too tipsy to move very quickly, and Mo complains that he’s wearing the wrong shoes for this, but when they get to the city center, and Dan sees the ancient parts of the Eternal City lit up in the night, he feels lighter for the first time in a long while. 

When July ends, so does the Roman Institute of Arts and Letters, and so does Dan’s torrid affair with the native Italian Maurizio. While Dan is packing up his closet of a dorm room, Mo comes by to deliver a parting gift: a charcoal sketch of Dan that makes him stammer and blush. 

“If you are ever back in Rome, call me.”

Dan kisses him one last time, and says, “Lo farò.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I definitely have more to share in this story, I cannot promise when it will be posted here, because life & job & etc, but I hope to be sharing more soon. 
> 
> Work and chapter title from "Press Restart" by Walk the Moon.


	2. London Calling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The longer Dan spends in London, and the closer he gets to his departure date, the more he realizes that he doesn’t really want to go back home."
> 
> or
> 
> Dan pays a visit to his little sister, and comes to a decision.

Dan finds Jenny and Eric waiting for him at the arrivals gate in Heathrow holding up the gaudiest, most embarrassing sign he’s ever seen in his life. His name, stenciled by Jenny’s careful calligraphy, is inked in a bright glittery pink, and surrounded by glitter and dozens of reflective foil stickers. 

“Were you worried I wouldn’t be able to find you?” he asks drily. 

“Well it worked didn’t it?” Jenny says brightly before pulling him into a hug. 

Jenny declares that he’s had far too much culture at his pretentious Italian Institute, so she and Eric take him on an itinerary full of the kitschiest attractions in tourist London. Some of them are pretty fun, like the Eye, the Harry Potter Studios, and the Jack the Ripper nighttime walking tour through the East End, but some of them Dan complains are borderline painful, like the Notting Hill and Bridget Jones bus tours, and being dragged through Piccadilly Circus (“I don’t understand, you’re both New Yorkers and this is just a worse Times Square”). On his second night in the city, they surprise him—or force on him—tickets to the West End production of _Mamma Mia!_ It actually ends up being pretty fun, but Dan credits that on the joint they share before they go. 

He does get a little bit of history and culture on the day they go to Hampton Court and the Tower (a concession made for Jenny’s obsession with _The Tudors_ ), but it isn’t until his fifth day when Jenny has to work and Eric has a date that Dan is finally free to go out on his own and pay his respects to Poet’s Corner. 

Because Jenny still has to work the crazy hours of haute couture, Dan ends up spending a lot of down time with his stepbrother. It’s nice to have Eric around; Dan has always thought of him as a kindred spirit, a leveling and calm presence in the often tumultuous happenings of life in the Upper East Side. And, Eric also possesses a decent amount of tact, so catching up with him doesn’t hurt. Eric tells him about his classes at Sarah Lawrence, the suitemates-turned-friends and the house they’ve rented for next year, the campus counselor that he sees regularly, and, to Dan’s surprise, Scott, their mutual half-brother.

Scott was still based in Boston, having just graduated from BU. All the van der Humphreys kept in touch in their own way, but they had agreed to let Scott take the lead and reach out on his own terms. Dan hadn’t seen his older brother since his joke of a book tour last fall, but he tries to stay in touch via email—admittedly that went through the window this summer. According to Eric, the two of them talk regularly. Dan can see how Eric brightens up as he speaks, and he’s glad that Eric has a person, a sibling close by that he can lean on. 

Dan is unsure of how much he knows about what had happened between Serena and him before he left, but it’s evident that Eric knows something is off, given how he acts after a phone call with his older sister. 

“Serena says ‘hi,’” he had said lightly after hanging up. 

Dan grunted in acknowledgement, pretending to be immersed in a book. 

“Should I tell her ‘hi’ back for you?” 

“Uh…” He looked up from the page he was not reading. “No, that’s okay, thanks.” 

“Okay...” Eric said, dubious. 

Dan was saved from having to explain when Jenny stormed in through the front door, her arms laden with discarded samples and leftover food from the photo shoot’s craft service. 

Visiting London has also given Dan the chance to get to know his sister as the person she is now. Or maybe, the person she always was, but he just wasn’t able to see it back home. Jenny moves through the streets of London confident and unapologetic, zipping between school and work with her characteristic single-mindedness. She has a whole group of friends (not mean girls, not minions, no hierarchical structure in place) who respect and tease each other in equal turns, without ever resorting to yogurt or Nair attacks. There is also talk of a girlfriend, but Dan is _not_ permitted to meet her because it is far too soon to initiate her into the complicated family life of the Humphrey clan (“And of all my siblings, you are the most embarrassing”). His little sister still may wear too much kohl for Dan’s taste, but there is a lightness and a self-assuredness about her that he could only see the beginnings of the last time she was in New York. He is incredibly proud of her. 

He tells her so one night as they’re walking home from dinner, the pint he’d drunk giving him just enough of a buzz to be sentimental. She snorts and flips him off. Then a block later, she throws her arms around his neck in a hug. 

The longer Dan spends in London, and the closer he gets to his departure date, the more he realizes that he doesn’t really want to go back home. He left at odds with almost everyone in New York, except maybe Rufus and Nate, but that’s only because he didn’t really talk to them right before he took off. 

Lily he had left after tearing into her about leaving his father for Bart Bass. It’s true that they had not always agreed in the past, and he may have been projecting his own pain onto the situation, but he had been furious at her and let her know it. 

_You’re going to throw away the best partnership of your life over Ivy Dickens? Didn’t you consider the possibility that destroying your life over her would be playing into her hand? If you’re angry with Dad, fine,_ talk _to him about it, tell him why and give him the chance to make it right. Don’t run away just because some rich asshole has given you an out._

Lily hadn’t said anything, but he vividly remembers the stricken look on her face as he stalked out of the penthouse, possibly for the last time, come to think of it. 

The memory of that confrontation still twists his gut. He had never spoken to Lily like that, even when Serena—Serena 

Dan had burned that bridge, too. River Kwai, London 1666 burned it. The memory of what they did at the Shepherds’ party had been hanging heavy on him all summer, but what made him sick with guilt was what he’d said after. Because he knows, despite her actions and the absolute shit that she’s put him through, that his words still carry a lot of weight with her. And the tape—he didn’t know how to face her, or trust her after that. 

As for Blair-and-Chuck, Chuck-and-Blair, well: his sister had been chased out of New York City just for sleeping with Chuck once, so Dan can only wonder what’s in store for the man who dared to make love to Blair Waldorf. 

At the very least, Dan knows that going back to NYC would mean being haunted by ghosts, but London: London feels like a possibility, a fresh start, away from the toxicity in New York that had eroded at his life for the past five years.

His plans fall into place surprisingly quickly, he might even be tempted to say it was a sign that this was the right move, but Dan is not really into searching for signals from the universe these days. Jenny’s “absolute flake” of a roommate gets a modeling contract in Paris, leaving a need for someone to take over her half of the lease. Jenny bemoans the prospect of having to live with her older brother, but Dan can tell that she's actually pleased (“You were easier to share a bathroom with than Nadia, no question”). NYU has a campus in London, and after a full day of phone calls and emails and hanging around the registrar's office in Bedford square, Dan is set to enroll for his senior year. 

Really, the hardest part, or the part that Dan dreads the most, is calling his people back home and explaining that he wouldn’t be back in the fall. Though it is a terribly last-minute decision, it also feels incredibly right, but he is unsure of how to articulate it without sounding like an insane person. Dan had never thought of himself as impulsive, but given his recent history: raising a baby with Georgina Sparks, publishing a novel in secret, and running away with a princess bride, he guesses he has set a pattern of sorts for rash decisions. He hopes that moving to another country looks reasonable in comparison, at least to his parents. 

He decides to call his mom first, figuring that it will be the easiest conversation. She has always been supportive of him, but since she left, she’s taken to being very agreeable, overly cautious about pressing him on his choices. He opens his contact list and scrolls down searching for her info. His mom chose to go back to her maiden name after the divorce; she’d said it was an “independent woman thing” but Dan and Jenny suspected that she didn’t want to have to share a name with Lily. He eventually finds it: Alison Whelan. Listed directly beneath Blair Waldorf. His thumb falters over the screen for a moment, then he shakes the feeling away and presses the call button to speak to his mother, resolving to get a new phone as soon as he possibly can. 

Dan thought his father would be more difficult to persuade, but Rufus admits that based on the brief conversations they’d had over the summer (after Jenny had browbeaten Dan into calling), he’d expected Dan wouldn’t want to come back to New York right away. Rufus expresses his relief that even if his son is moving away, at least he’s finishing school, and Dan expresses his relief that his father’s marriage is still intact.

“You wouldn’t have had anything to do with that would you?” his dad asks. 

“I—uh,” Dan stammers, embarrassed, “I don’t see how anything I did could have helped. If you had been there, I would’ve yelled at you. Or Vanya.” 

“Well, just between you and me, son, I’m grateful you did. And glad that you didn’t drag Vanya into it,” they share a laugh before Rufus instructs: “Look after your sister, okay?” 

“Actually, I think it’s more like she is looking after me.” 

It takes him all day to psych himself up to call Alessandra. She had secured an excellent opportunity for him, but here at the end of the summer, he had no book to show for it. He hated letting people down, and he was dreading having to do it to this agent who had stuck her neck out for a new talent. 

In the end, though, Alessandra is pretty understanding. She tells him that she’s expected this for a while, that he got thrown into the publishing world too green, and that he needs a minute to catch his breath. 

“Just promise me one thing,” she asks before they hang up, “when you do have something: send it to me first, okay?” 

“I will,” he promises while wondering if that day will ever actually come. 

With his parents and agent notified, Dan only has one more call to make to New York. 

Nate takes his apology for disappearing with his usual good nature, and is happy to catch Dan up on how he spent his summer. It’s fairly typical: he broke up with a girl (Lola took off for a summer stock contract), went to the Hamptons, fought with his mother, and met a new girl (Addison, a recent Princeton grad), but his biggest piece of news takes Dan by surprise. 

“You sold the _Spectator?”_

“Yeah,” he hears Nate let out a deep breath. “It was time. To be honest it was failing long before I got there, and I didn’t want to be like my dad, clinging on to a sinking ship, you know?” 

Dan nods, sympathetic. “That makes sense. So what are you going to do now?” 

“I don’t know. I think I might pull a Dan Humphrey and just focus on school, study what I’m interested in for change.” 

“That’s great, but I don’t think Columbia offers a major in ESPN studies.” 

He laughs, “Shut up, man. Seriously though, I am probably going to need your help with research papers when you get back.” 

Dan rubs the back of his neck, “Yeah, about that...” 

Nate also takes his decision to stay in Europe with his usual good nature, but is sadder about it than Dan would have anticipated. 

“But who am I gonna Mad Men with now?” he asks, despondent. 

“One name springs to mind,” Dan tries not to sound too bitter. 

“Nah we both know he’s less Mad Men and more Entourage.” That earns a snort from Dan. After a pause, Nate ventures to ask: “How are you doing with all of that by the way? You okay?” 

Dan sighs, and answers honestly, “I’m trying to be.” 

With those four phone calls done, Dan considers his task of notifying people complete. He doesn't care if anyone else knows, or at least, he does not care to tell anyone else. 

Once he’s outfitted with a new phone with a new UK number, he asks his sister for another favor: set up a Gossip Girl block on his devices. 

“Ummm sure,” she agrees, “but why can’t you do it yourself?” 

“Because if I do it, then I’ll know the passcode, and just check it anyway.” He holds the phone up in front of her, face solemn. “This is a detox, Jen, I need you to flush my stash.” 

“So dramatic,” she rolls her eyes, but she does it anyway. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter title from the Clash song of the same name.


	3. And you, of course, the Angel Islington

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Humphrey siblings take London. 
> 
> "In many ways, moving in with Jenny reminds him of the summer before his last year of high school. He, alone in the city, stuck in writer’s block, nursing a heartbreak, while his sister moved like a force of nature around him, blissfully immersed in her calling."

Dan is a born and raised New Yorker, a proud Brooklynite who had never wanted to be from anywhere else, but as he settles into this new life, he starts to wonder if he had been wrong to stay in the same place for so long. 

By the time the summer is over, Dan is adequately moved in, the majority of his clothes and books shipped in from New York, packed by a team of professionals graciously supervised by Lily. She had refused to touch the loft record collection—started by Rufus but lovingly curated and cultivated by Dan—saying that they would have to divvy it up themselves. Given the limited amount of space he and Jen have, Dan decides to save that battle for another day. 

In many ways, moving in with Jenny reminds him of the summer before his last year of high school. He, alone in the city, stuck in writer’s block, nursing a heartbreak, while his sister moved like a force of nature around him, blissfully immersed in her calling. Only this time it’s a different city and a different heartbreak.

With Eric back at Sarah Lawrence, and Jenny with her own built-in life, Dan falls back to his identity of Lonely Boy, and only bounces between classes, home, and the coffee shop he’s deemed worthy. Jenny puts her foot down and refuses to let him slip back into old habits (“This can’t be high school all over again, Daniel”) and will drag him out of the house as often as she can manage. She bullies him out to parties, to bars, to blockbuster movies (but never any art house or indie films). Even if on most nights they can only manage to get to the pub around the corner, Jenny refuses to let him go “either full hermit or full Hemingway.”

For all the grumbling he makes about her apparent nagging, Dan is grateful for Jenny’s efforts. Gradually, he builds a social life piece by piece, through hanging out with Jenny’s friends, most of whom are pretentious art majors and therefore his people, and through the people he meets in his classes and the school’s apparently compulsory NYU Abroad mixers. 

Dan does eventually get to meet the girlfriend, Marisol. She’s a graphic design major, sweet with a side of awkward and geeky. She looks at Jenny like she hung the moon, and Jenny glows with a kind of happiness around her that Dan has never seen on his sister before. He is equal parts jealous and happy for her. 

Rooming with one’s sibling as a young adult does present certain challenges. Jenny, for her part, is always very careful about having Marisol over. Dan, on the other hand, is less careful. Dan used to say that sex should be like art, and therefore should take time and be laden with meaning. Now, he still believes that sex is like art, but in the sense that it should be enjoyed freely whenever possible. Jenny tolerates, but mocks him mercilessly for it, that is, until it makes her own student/professional life awkward. (“Listen Dan, live your life how you want, no judgement, but can you _please_ not sleep with any artists and models that I have to work with?”). He tries to stick to the NYU study abroad contingent after that. 

He does go on a few actual dates, but his heart isn’t really in it, unwilling to offer anything other than something casual. He can’t pretend to give himself to anyone while he’s still in love with someone else. 

He tries not to think about her, but then he’ll catch a glimpse of chestnut brown hair on the street or a whiff of her perfume in a crowded space, and she’ll happen to him all over again. Those are the days when he most feels as if he is only doing an impression of moving on.

He still can’t seem to write worth a damn, but on a whim (and Jenny’s recommendation) he picks up a guitar again. It’s been over five years since he’s made any musical effort, but it doesn’t take long for the calluses and muscle memory to return. He has no interest in songwriting, and instead just learns and plays whatever strikes his interest. He may not technically call it “creating,” but it’s nice to have something that feels like _his_. Something that’s not tied to Daniel Humphrey, the apparent one-book wonder. 

As opposed to this summer, Dan actually makes an effort to keep in touch with his people back home. He and his dad have a weekly phone call (often crashed by Jenny), and he emails Eric and Scott frequently (he’ll crash on Jenny’s video calls with them). Seeming to anticipate Dan’s inability to keep up, Nate calls him on a regular basis, allegedly to ask Dan for academic help, but it’s really just to check up on him. But Nate sometimes forgets the time difference and will try calling him in the middle of the night. 

On one afternoon, Dan turns his phone on after class to see a slew of missed calls from Nate. Dan calls him back immediately. 

“Hey,” Nate picks up on the first ring, his typically easy tone sounding strained. 

“Dude, you just called me six times, what is going on?” His mind races, wondering what disaster would warrant such a call volume: his dad? Lily? Eric? He then remembers calling Nate on Thanksgiving two years ago to tell him Serena had overdosed, and his stomach clenches in panic. 

“Addison’s pregnant.” 

Dan's mouth falls open, the panic immediately replaced with shock. “Holy shit.” 

“Yeah,” Nate clears his throat, “yeah, sorry about all the calls, it’s just—you’re the only friend I know who...” 

“Okay,” Dan feels very ill-equipped to handle this conversation after an hour and a half lecture on Gothic literature. “Did you just find out?” 

Nate goes on to tell him the whole story—sparing the gory details of course: Addison was late, she took a test, her doctor confirmed, she and Nate discussed their options, and came to a decision. 

“Is that crazy of me? Wanting to keep it?” Nate asks. 

“No, no, it’s not crazy, not if you’re both on the same page,” Dan replies. “Are you?” 

“Yeah. Yeah we are, Addie and me,” Nate pauses, “I’m gonna propose. I want to do the right thing, you know?” 

Dan pinches the bridge of his nose, his head spinning trying to keep up. He was not prepared for this kind of phone call today. So, he does what he always does when trying to give advice: an impression of his dad. “That’s...a very responsible and mature approach.” 

“Yeah, except for the fact that I am _totally freaking out_ ,” the anxiety finally breaks through his voice. 

“Nate, this is...life-changing stuff that’s happening, I think you’re entitled to at least one freak-out.” 

Nate’s response is so quiet that Dan almost doesn’t hear it. “What if I’m no good at it?” 

“You will be,” Dan says confidently. “Listen, you already have the advantage over me: you have months to plan, and you have a partner who is in it with you, right? I mean,” he rolls his eyes, “it’s not like you’re having a baby with Georgina Sparks.” 

Nate’s laugh crackles through the receiver, “Thanks man, I needed that reminder,” he continues laughing. 

“You’re welcome,” Dan says flatly, and then with more sincerity: “And I know it’s terrifying, but I’m here for you, really. Well, I’m here. On the phone for you.” 

“I appreciate that.” Dan hears noise on the other end of the call, and a soft female voice. “I have to go,” Nate says distractedly, “but thanks for listening.” 

“Anytime.” 

After Nate hangs up, Dan has to sit for a moment to process. 

It’s true, he’s one of the only friends Nate has that could sympathize with what he must be going through. He remembers how he felt, how the ground had fallen out beneath him when Georgina had shown up at his door. How having Milo had turned his world upside down then right side up again. 

The memory of that time, brought up by Nate’s news, makes him wistful. Not that he isn’t glad to have the freedom that he does now, but he misses that certainty, that clarity of purpose that came with parenthood. Now he just feels unmoored, every decision feels nebulous. 

_Nate Archibald_ was growing up and moving on and moving forward, and Dan feels like he is still flailing. 

He leaves campus and heads to his favorite cafe, deciding that if he has to ponder his pathetic existence then he might as well have coffee. He is reaching for the door handle, lost in thought, when he collides into somebody else. 

“Oh, god, sorry are you ok?” he asks distractedly, trying to steady himself and the blonde blur he just crashed into. 

The blonde blur seems to know him. “Daniel Humphrey?” a familiar voice asks, incredulous. 

The recognition shocks him out of his reverie. “Epperly?” he asks, stunned, “Wow, fancy meeting you here.” He moves to hold open the door for his old boss. 

“Likewise,” she says, amused. 

“Sorry for all that, by the way,” he apologizes again as they make their way up to the counter. 

“Oh no, it was my fault, that’s what I get for trying to email and walk at the same time.” He chuckles, and she motions at him to go first at the counter. 

“A large black coffee, and whatever she’s having,” he tells the barista, nodding to Epperly behind him. “It’s on me,” he says before she can protest, “it’s the least I can do, I still owe you for getting into fisticuffs in front of Stefano Tonchi.” 

“Fair enough.” She smiles and orders an americano. 

After they’ve gotten their drinks, she asks, “So what brings you to London? Are you visiting?” 

He shakes his head as they sit down at a table by the window. “I’ve been here for 3 months now, actually. I’m finishing my degree at NYU London. What about you?” he asks, “are you still with Condé Nast?” 

She nods, “I’m on the editorial team for _Vogue_ here in London. New York was getting me down.” She shrugs. 

“Yeah, I know the feeling.” 

She studies him, calculating. “We’ve actually been talking about bringing someone, possibly a student, on as part-time staff, you’d be a great candidate.” 

He nearly chokes on his coffee. “You don’t think I’m underqualified?” 

“It’s a part-time assistant’s assistant position. You have bylines in the _W_ blog, _Vanity Fair_ , and the _New Yorker_ , and you wrote a bestselling novel, you might be overqualified.” 

He blinks in disbelief. “I only technically interned at _W_ for one day, and you saw how well that turned out.” 

“Just don’t wrestle any interns and you’ll be fine. Plus, I have not had an assistant in the past two years who has made a coffee as good as yours.” She starts gathering up her things to leave, and takes out a business card and hands it to him. “Just think about it and let me know. And thank you for the coffee, Daniel.” He stays and finishes his drink in stunned silence. 

He is still stunned when he relays the story to Jenny that night. 

“It’s crazy, right?” he asks her from his post at the kitchen sink. “I am definitely not qualified for something like that.” 

“I don’t know, Dan, you are kind of a get.” He scoffs. “I’m serious,” she persists, “I know you are the master of the self-deprecating writer shtick, but you are kind of a big name now. And I think Epperly knows that.” 

Dan works silently for a minute, considering her words. 

“But don’t let it go to your head,” Jenny adds, “I don’t think you’re likely to crash into any other pretty blondes with job offers.” 

Dan rolls his eyes. “So you think I should go for it? Me? Your fashionably inept older brother?” 

“You know more than you think you do,” Jenny assures him, “I mean, you’ve listened to me talk my entire life, and you spent years surrounded by some of the best dressed women in New York City, you’ve had to have learned something.” She shrugs, “and failing that, you’re a great bullshitter. I know for a fact you spent half your summer with Jeremiah Harris just faking your way through his drunken esoteric monologues.” 

She leans on the counter, resting her chin on her hands and batting her eyes pleadingly. “If you don’t do it for yourself, then at least do it for me, so you can take me to all those industry networking parties.” 

“Fine, fine, I’ll email her.” He throws a dish towel at his sister, “but you will have to be my couture tutor.” 

She grins, “That’s all I’ve ever wanted.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!!
> 
> I have two more chapters planned for this work (one of them is even drafted!), and will be continuing the story in another work in the series--there is very much more to come!
> 
> Chapter title from "The Angel Islington" by Frank Turner (I think Turner's lyric writing is very much a Dan Humphrey vibe)


	4. Sweet Albion Blues

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dan gets a new job, which leads to an exciting opportunity.
> 
> "While his life in London began with only his old identity of Lonely Boy, Dan soon finds himself immersed in other roles, both old and new."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My degrees are in classical music and librarianship, so I wrote this with no knowledge of magazine publishing, just vibes.

Jenny turns out to be right (much to Dan’s chagrin). The interview process is quick, and his background as a writer combined with Epperly’s recommendation secures him the job easily. So, 3 days a week—plus weekends before an issue release—Dan is an employee at Vogue House in Hanover Square. 

Working for a fashion magazine is not something that ever crossed his mind as a possibility (brief stint at _W_ notwithstanding), but once he’s there Dan is determined to make it work, if only to save himself from looking like a complete fool. 

He shares a workstation with another part-time undergraduate, and she reminds him vividly of the girls he knew in high school: expensive clothes, headband, and a look that said she would kill him as soon as look at him for a leg up. 

He had worried that working in fashion writing would mean having to work around the Waldorf name frequently, but Blair only comes up once, during a lunch meeting of copy editing with Epperly. 

“I’m curious,” she asks, “how did you get on the _W_ blog? It was after I fired you.” 

“Oh, that. I wasn’t an employee; I just did that as a favor to Blair.” When Epperly’s eyebrows shoot up, he explains: “I ghost wrote an entry, and she had an uncharacteristic fit of conscience and put my name on it.” 

Epperly eyes narrow. “Did you two ever…?” 

Dan coughs, and nods once, stiffly. 

“HA!” she exclaims triumphantly, smacking her hand on the conference table. “I knew it would happen.” 

“What?” 

“Donna and I had a bet on it.” 

“A bet on what?” He sputters, feeling a little defensive. 

“On when you two would get together. Actually, could you give me an exact date? It’s important for the over/under.” 

Dan shuts down her line of questioning with a look. 

Intimidating desk mates and nosy bosses aside: Dan finds that he enjoys the structure of being a part of an office, the routine—though often fast-paced and grueling—works for him. He still does not know what he’s doing there, and skates by for weeks doing coffee runs, generic proofreading, and basic revision notes, until he remembers: 

_Fashion is the most powerful art form there is. It’s movement, design, and architecture all in one._

It causes Dan to rethink his perspective. He may think he’s clueless when it comes to couture, but he knows art. His critical eye had been developing since he was little, when his dad took him on artist scouting missions, or when he’d peek over his mother’s shoulder as she did her homework to finish her BFA. Dan, forever the gifted kid, had always learned best by osmosis, and whether on museum field trips with his mom, or listening to his dad court buyers in his gallery after school, he soaked up everything they said. 

And so, he stops treating the articles he’s passed as something he doesn’t understand, and instead treats them like he would an art critique, like he’s back at the MOMA with his mom or in the gallery with his dad in New York, or sitting in peer review at the Institute or lounging in Maurizio’s bed in Rome. His work improves: his notes take on a point of view, he actually participates in the copy edit rounds in the conference room on weekends, and the questions he asks grow pointed and analytical. Epperly and the other higher ups in the office start to look at him with something akin to approval.

He’s rewarded by getting even more work dropped on him. More drafts come across his desk, Epperly comes by frequently to ask for his notes on a particular piece, and he even gets writing assignments tossed his way for arts & lifestyle pieces. And most importantly, he gets his own cubicle to shield him from Elise’s eye daggers. 

Jenny takes her job as fashion tutor very seriously (“I really should be getting course credit for this, like an independent study in Fashion Literacy”). She favors a guerilla style of teaching, popping out of corners at quizzing him at random. For example, one night she jumps out from behind the couch while he’s napping. Her shout of “Who’s Givenchy?!” sends him rolling to the floor. 

Another night, supposedly as part of his education, she forces him to sit down and watch _The Devil Wears Prada_. About 45 minutes in, she spontaneously bursts into laughter and points to Stanley Tucci on the screen. 

“Omigod, that’s _you_.” 

Dan throws a handful of popcorn at her. 

His sister also holds him to taking her to magazine events, which Dan grumbles about attending until he realizes that they provide a great cover for sneaking away with his latest fling. 

Finn is a photographer that contracts frequently with Condé Nast, and he’s a sardonic and caustic Brit that finds Dan’s dry self-deprecating wit infinitely amusing. He, like Dan, is also not interested in any sort of serious romantic relationship, but they enjoy each other’s company enough to call themselves friends (amongst other things), and he calls Dan “darling” so much that the nickname is the only way Jenny ever refers to him. 

While his life in London began with only his old identity of Lonely Boy, Dan soon finds himself immersed in other roles, both old and new: older brother (though Jenny seems far too independent and grown up to need him much anymore), top student (his grades are as pristine as they ever were), magazine editor (and a fashion magazine at that), and best friend and advisor to an expectant parent. Dan is now the one calling to check up on Nate—he suspects that he’s one of the few Nate feels comfortable leaning on, so he tries to be as available as he can. Nate will still call him late at night, but thanks to Dan’s moronic excuse of a sleep schedule (exacerbated by the high-stakes world of fashion publishing), Dan’s usually there for him. 

There is one role, however, that continues to escape him: writer. 

For all the writing he does and gets to be around by virtue of his job, Dan still can’t shake himself of the block that’s fallen over all of his attempts at fiction. Luckily, due to Alessandra’s clever negotiating and Dan’s abject begging, _Inside_ was also able to serve as his capstone project, so Dan is at least spared from having to do any more creative writing to finish his degree.

In fact, he gets through his entire penultimate semester without having to confront his literary future at all, until he sits down with Epperly for his quarterly review in January. 

It starts off well enough, she opens with: “You are doing really well here, you meet your deadlines, your critiques are helpful and well-informed, you make great coffee, and the girls in the office have finally shut up about you since you and Finn got caught making out at the holiday party.” 

Dan winces. “Not my finest hour.” 

Epperly tilts her head and shrugs. “But, it was effective in making all the single women think you’re gay. And because of that, the focus has been on your work, which, as I said, has been exceptional.” 

“I sense there’s a ‘but’ coming.” 

She gives him a wry look. “I can see you having a future here, but I don’t think that’s what you really want.” She leans forward, resting her clasped hands on the desk, “Come on Daniel, you’re one of the youngest writers of your generation to debut with a bestselling novel; do you really want your follow up to just be existing on the inside cover of a fashion magazine?”

“I don’t know. I guess I haven’t given it much thought,” or more honestly: he’s been avoiding thinking about it. “I was kind of… blocked last spring, and I don’t think I ever became unblocked.” 

Epperly hums in understanding. “Can I offer my opinion as your supervisor, and as a person who has read your novel? I just think you’re not done learning how to write. Yes, you’re talented, but talent needs training, no matter how much of it you have.” 

Dan’s hand comes up to the back of his neck, feeling sheepish all of a sudden. “I mean… I’m almost done with my degree.” 

Epperly shakes her head. “It’s not enough.” 

“Ohhh-kay?” 

“ _Inside_ is your first major work of fiction, how long did it take you to write it?” 

“4 years? On and off?” 

“Do you want the next one to take 4 years?” He shakes his head. “Because you don’t know how to be disciplined enough yet.” 

“Can we go back to when you were complimenting me—what’s that thing about me meeting my deadlines?” 

“At least half of writing is learning how to work through the blocks. And you are good at this job, Daniel, but I would be bad at mine if I didn’t press you on this. You can and will write more books, even better than _Inside_ , but not if you stay here just because it’s safe. I mean, do you really want to be here a year from now? Or two? Or five? Still making out with Finn in the supply closet?”

“I guess not. So...what do you suggest?” 

“Have you thought about grad school? For what it’s worth, I really liked my time at Oxford, I think you would too.” 

“Oxford wow…” Dan trails off as he considers the possibility. Could he really do it? Well, he did manage to get into Yale, he didn’t end up going, but still. Plus, Oxford would mean an added excuse to stay away from New York, and the longer he’s gone, the less he wants to go back. 

“I took a creative writing course for an elective, and my professor was excellent. I really think you’d like her; I could put you two in touch if you like.” 

“Uh...yeah, wow. Thank you, Epperly, you’ve definitely given me a lot to think about.” 

She smiles, satisfied. “You’re welcome, now get out of here and make me one of those cappuccinos you’re so good at. And don’t forget I need your edits on my desk by 3.” 

Epperly is as good as her word, and puts him in touch with Doctor Anita Kingston. After a few email exchanges, Dr. Kingston invites him to come in for a meeting, which sends Dan into a good panic. 

“I don’t get it—isn’t this good news?” Jenny asks, watching him pace through their cramped living room. “It means she’s interested. You have an in.” 

“I know but—” Dan runs his hands through his hair, “but a meeting means she expects me to show her something. And I have written basically nothing since _Inside_ , not fiction anyways.” 

“Okay, first of all: _relax_. You still have time to write something, and what could it hurt to give her samples of the nonfiction you’ve done for _Vogue_? It’ll at least show you have range.” 

Dan harrumphs. “I could write something new except for the fact that I have absolutely no new ideas.” 

Jenny rolls her eyes, “Listen as much as I love watching you wear a rut in the floor of our shared space, I have a date tonight. Don’t burn down the building with your Poe-esque pity party while I’m out.” Dan flops down onto the couch and groans theatrically. 

“You could write about me,” Jenny offers casually on her way out the door, “I’m _fascinating_.” 

“Humble, too,” Dan calls after her, sarcastic, but he can already feel it: the seedling of a new idea taking root in his brain. 

By the time Jenny gets back from Marisol’s the next day Dan has a draft of two chapters, plus an outline for three more. 

“Feel like doing a little reading?” He asks nervously. 

She comes out of her room an hour later, her laptop perched on her forearm. He watches her and waits. 

“Carrie Hendricks is kind of a bitch, huh?” She finally says, “This heroine of yours?” 

He gulps. “I don't have to write it. I can scrap it right now, no questions asked. Try something else.” He had learned his lesson last year. Nothing, no book, was worth hurting his sister for. 

She shakes her head. “That’s not what I meant. She’s complicated and I like that.” She looks him straight in the eye, “You should write this.” 

He lets out a laugh, a sound of relief, more breath in it than anything else. “Thanks, Jen.” 

Dr. Kingston’s specialties are magical realism and historical fiction—neither of which are Dan’s strong suits, but after their first meeting Dan knows that he wants to work with her; she’s accomplished and erudite (as one would expect from an Oxford professor), and when they talk about storytelling, she gets a gleam in her eye that reminds Dan of why he wanted to be a writer in the first place. He starts on the application, trying not to think too much about the pages he gave her, and thanking whatever gods exist that he does not have to take any entrance exams (The SATs were tortuous enough, he’s not sure he would survive the GRE).

A week later, he receives an email that reads: 

> Dear Mr. Humphrey, 
> 
> It was a pleasure meeting you last week. I have just finished reviewing the work you brought with you, and while you are right, it is very rough, I think it shows a lot of promise for a novel. I would be happy to serve as a reference on your application, and work with you on this piece. 
> 
> Please let me know when you submit. 
> 
> Best, 
> 
> A Kingston, PhD, MFA, MSt 

The next couple weeks pass in a blur, he still goes to classes and work, but in between it all he fine-tunes his application, taking even more care than he did four years ago with Yale. And through it all he writes and writes, like his mind is trying to make up for the nearly yearlong drought he’s been in. He always offers the new pages to Jenny for her review, but she always waves him off. (“I’ll read it when it’s done, big brother. I have my own job, you know, I can’t be your editor too.”)

It’s probably because of the fugue state that he’s in that he agrees to Rufus and Nate’s requests that he come visit New York. Rufus, now that most of the fuss has died down about the Bart Bass debacle and leaving him and Lily with a severe case of empty-nest syndrome, misses seeing his kids not through a screen, and Nate would very much like Dan to meet his fiancé, preferably before his kid is born and/or the wedding (date to be determined after the kid is born).

He does suppose that he’s due for a visit. He and Jenny had begged off Thanksgiving (“They don’t celebrate that here in England, Dad.”), and they had side-stepped the issue of Christmas entirely by spending it with Scott and his girlfriend over in Boston. 

Plus, Dan is running out of excuses to hold them off: his application to Oxford is in by the end of the month—submitted with Jenny and Marisol hovering supportively over his shoulders, and he does have a break in classes coming up, and Epperly, who is apparently a huge believer in work/life balance since she left W, has been insisting that he take a vacation. Unfortunately, Jenny’s boss is much more needy and stringent, so she couldn’t take off even if she wanted to, meaning that whatever traveling Dan does, he will have to do it alone.

So with no reasonable reason to not visit his home city—Dan really does not care to try and explain the irrational ones—he makes plans to spend a week in NYC, and even makes plans to see his mother and Scott while he’s stateside, too. Despite the nerves that bubble up inside him, Dan knows that he will be happy to see his family again. It’s the rest he’s worried about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're going back to NYC! 
> 
> Like I said in my notes from the last update, there will be one more chapter in this work, and the story will continue in another series installment.
> 
> Chapter title from the Frank Turner song of the same name.
> 
> thank you so much for reading!


	5. And tries to forget she has dreamed of the stars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It did not work out _quite_ according to her original two year plan, but Blair is finally close to getting everything she’s ever wanted: the education, the career, and the man.
> 
> We catch up with what Blair and the NYC squad have been up to since the season 5 finale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I have to admit: this was the hardest chapter I've had to write so far, I want to do our girl justice, and I hate having to make her unhappy, but it's necessary to the story for her to be where she is right now. So this is the mandatory angst before the sunshine and tooth rotting fluff that is (eventually) coming. (I promise it is, I've already written so much of it already.)
> 
> The title of this chapter is a paraphrased line of poetry from ["The Heart of a Woman" by Georgia Douglas Johnson](https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/52494/the-heart-of-a-woman) (it is gorgeous and devastating I highly recommend reading it if you are so inclined, to me it is very much a Blair Waldorf poem)

It did not work out _quite_ according to her original two year plan, but Blair is finally close to getting everything she’s ever wanted: the education, the career, and the man. 

She follows Chuck to Monte Carlo, needing to prove that she would always bet on him, and they make their pact to build their futures and establish their careers before settling down. Blair wants to get back to her powerful woman path, and Chuck is desperate to unseat his prodigal father. Chuck leaves Monte Carlo for a summer’s world tour of courting venture capitalists, and Blair goes to Paris and her mother’s atelier, with the Harry Winston diamond hanging around her neck, a weighted reminder of their promise to each other. 

Eleanor offers her a permanent position at Waldorf Designs at the end of the summer, but only if she goes back to school. That was going to be her plan _anyway_ , but Blair almost says no just to be contrary. But she doesn’t, because a degree from an Ivy has always been a central pillar of the plan, ever since the nights when she would go to sleep wrapped in her father’s Yale sweater. 

So, at the end of the summer, she trades the streets of Paris for the hallowed halls of Columbia. All the royal drama of the previous year meant that she was returning behind everyone else, but she was Blair Waldorf, so she refused to trail behind for very long. She pushes herself like she always does, but she has learned to mind her limits: she keeps her course load at the 16-hour limit, she refuses to stay at the atelier past 8 pm on weeknights, she makes time to sleep, and she always double-checks that her shoes match on her way out the door. 

She and Chuck settle into a routine that is borderline domestic. They trade off staying at each other’s penthouses every week, and it’s often the only time they have together because they are both so busy. Chuck regularly jets off to a variety of places, trying to secure enough allies, goodwill, capital, and dirt to oust Bart. And Blair’s days evolve into a continuous cycle: mornings at Columbia, afternoons at the atelier, and evening games with Chuck (when he’s in town and available that is). 

This routine requires Blair to be constantly on the move, and she much prefers the motion to standing still. Because if she doesn’t have free time, that means that there is no time to think about Dan, or free time to go to the movies and think about Dan, or go to a museum or art gallery and think about Dan. 

Because if he ever did cross her mind, it would be proof that what Chuck said on the rooftop is true, so Blair has to forget him. Which should prove easier than expected, because Dan Humphrey hasn’t been in New York in months, but his continued absence from the city makes him all the more conspicuous. She hadn’t realized just how indelible he had been to her life until he vanished from it completely. 

She hears through the grapevine (Nate) that he stayed in Europe. She knows Nate is still friends with him, in the way that Nate has always stayed friends with everyone in their circle, no matter how angry any of them might have been at each other. She is frequently tempted to ask Nate just how Dan’s doing, but then she’ll feel the weight of the ring resting against her sternum, and so she’ll let the urge pass her by. 

Serena is the one who tells her about the Shepherd party. The evening after Blair returned home from France, Serena showed up at the Waldorf penthouse with a bottle of Bordeaux and a box of Ladurée. After an hour of catching up and talking around the events of the spring, Serena blurted out, point blank, “I slept with Dan.” 

Blair kicked her out of the apartment, and spent the rest of the night in some sort of fit, screaming and crying and held hostage by an anger she did not feel a right to. The next day she called Serena and asked her to brunch at Sarabeth’s, and said nothing of it ever again. She had determined to build her future with someone else anyway, based on the thesis that Daniel Humphrey did not matter, so this information also must not matter. 

She only sees Serena sporadically these days. She’s taken to constant travel, never staying in one place too long. Blair has a steadily growing collection of postcards, she carefully pins each one up on the tufted linen corkboard in her bedroom. When Serena starts feeling homesick (or, Blair suspects, guilty) she’ll come back to New York and either crash in her room at Blair’s penthouse or on her brother’s couch in Bronxville. She’ll stay until she feels restless again, and begins the cycle anew. Whenever she returns, she’ll breeze bubbling over with stories all about meeting new people, exploring new places and trying new things, and Blair will feel that familiar envy creep up in her, that Serena feels so free, and Blair feels so anchored down by everything about her life in New York. 

With Serena out searching for herself, and Chuck out building his empire, Blair frequently finds herself in the company of Nate, and Nate’s latest girlfriend. Blair had been fully prepared to hate Addison, both out of solidarity for Serena’s sake and because Nate’s recent history of girls has not been great, to say the least. But the more time she spends with Addison, she realizes how different she is from the string of blonde disasters Nate’s brought home since he and Serena broke up two years ago. Though she’s not a New Yorker (California—San Francisco to be exact), she’s beautiful (brunette, not blonde), ivy-educated (Princeton, one of the Holy Trinity), works a respectable job (at Lincoln Center no less), and she does not have a complicated backstory consisting of convicted felons, gold-digging doppelgangers, or harboring men who’ve faked their own death. (Chuck and Blair did run a background check on her just to be safe, but they agreed not to tell Nate.) But most importantly, Addison seems different in that she might actually stick around. 

And then she gets pregnant. 

Nate is almost apologetic when he tells Blair, his face and voice cautious, gauging her carefully like he would when they were kids and he’d have to cancel a date or give her a gift that she hadn’t pre-picked out. It makes her feel defensive, the thought that he is trying to manage her, even though she knows that isn’t Nate. He is just trying to be kind. 

And, honestly, her emotions run the gamut, from shock to jealousy to sadness to finally, being happy for him. She wants to be happy for him, and be the supportive friend that he’s tried to be for her. 

It does prove a little more difficult the next time she sees Addie, glowing with the Vanderbilt diamond on her finger. Blair knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that she and Nate are not right for each other, they are meant to be friends, not partners. But seeing another woman in the place she spent most of her life thinking she would be—it still hurts. 

But, she reflects, she knows that that high carat crystal comes with its own weighted expectations, and she certainly doesn’t envy Addison those. Her hand comes up to fiddle with the ring she wears around her neck, it’s own promises and obligations etched into the stone. 

Chuck watches her carefully the next few days, too, she feels it like a prickle on the back of her neck, like her reaction is being tested for something. When he ever gets close to expressing his concern, Blair kisses it away and tells him that she’s happy. After all, why wouldn’t she be? 

In an effort to make sure Nate knows that it’s _fine_ , Blair insists that she and Chuck take the other couple out to dinner. It has the desired effect, Blair conveys her sincere congratulations and blessing, and demonstrates to both Chuck and Nate that she is over the events of last year. Because she has to be. 

Both Addison and Chuck have to take off after dinner, citing work emergencies. (For Addison, it’s a frantic call about something to do with the Met’s _Le Nozze di Figaro_ ; for Chuck, it’s a board member potentially defecting from his father). 

Once they’ve sent their partners off in their respective cabs (or more accurately in Chuck’s case, limo), Nate turns to her with a grin. “What do you say, Waldorf? After dinner drink?” 

After they’re comfortably situated at the bar—old fashioned for him, gin and tonic for her—Nate says, “Okay, let’s hear it.” 

“Hear what?” 

“Everything wrong with Addie,” he answers, “come on, I know you have to have a list going.” 

“I don’t,” she says, serious. “Truly, I don’t. You two seem really great together.” 

“Really?” She nods in affirmation. “You don’t think it’s all happening too fast?” she can see the worry in his eyes when he asks. 

She shrugs, “I think I forfeited the right to accuse anyone of moving too fast when I married a prince after knowing him for less than a year.” Nate chuckles weakly at that. She studies him for a moment, her first love, her oldest friend. She nudges his leg gently with her foot. “You look happy, Nate.” 

He smiles wide, genuine despite the worry, and nods, “I am.” He takes a drink, then asks, not unkindly, “Are you? Happy?” 

Nate had come by the morning after the failed salon, to apologize for the role he played in the drama that unfolded and unraveled the evening. Then he had said, completely sincere, “You seem really happy, B.” 

Blair had thought immediately of Dan, still asleep in her bed upstairs. They had stayed up so late—just talking, they could never run out of things to talk about—that she hadn’t wanted to wake him, despite how enticing it had been to wake him to not talk. 

“I really am,” she had answered, as easy as breathing. 

Now when he asks her again, “Are you?” Blair can’t make the words come. So she just nods, bringing her drink back up to her lips. She can feel Nate’s eyes on her, looking at her carefully, but he thankfully does not say anything. 

The anniversary of her accident comes and goes a few weeks later. She doesn’t notice it at first, but she is on edge all day, extra irritable. She makes a girl cry in her philosophy class in the morning (though in Blair’s defense she was asking for it, seriously, no one should like Adorno that much), and moves through the atelier with a veritable storm cloud over her head the entire afternoon. It isn’t until she gets home and sees the date on the desk calendar sitting on her vanity that she realizes. 

The grief hits her suddenly, making her knees weak and eyes water. She sinks down onto the chaise in the corner, and pulls out her phone needing to talk to—someone. 

She thinks about calling Chuck, but he is away (another investor scheme) and had probably (definitely) been ignorant of the significance of the day. Also, since they’ve been back together, Chuck acts like the previous year did not exist, like there was never a time when she chose somebody else over him, two somebodies over him. And he seemed to expect her to do the same. 

Neither Nate nor Serena were very good options either. Nate was so caught up in becoming a parent himself that he was one of the last people she wanted to talk to. And Serena was historically terrible at confronting tragedy. When it comes to fight or flight, she chooses flight every time. Really, the only person who was there for Blair when it happened, who at least tried to understand how it felt—she hadn’t heard from him in half a year. 

Blair’s thumb hovers over Dan’s name in her contact list. She’s not sure how long she sits there frozen, before she finally goes “Fuck it,” and presses the call button. 

_The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service._

The next day she has to get her phone screen replaced. 

The holiday season in New York passes with its usual fanfare in a blur of lavish parties. But for every event she spends on Chuck’s arm, as the glittering, elegant girlfriend, she seems to spend another going stag. She spends most of her time during the gatherings at both Hamilton House and Waldorf Designs conveying his excuses. When she’s not doing either of those things—supporting Chuck or apologizing for him—she helps Nate run interference with Addie. She is a society girl, too, but San Francisco and Princeton are a far cry from the Manhattan social scene, and Anne Archibald and the sharks that are socialite bachelorettes are daunting even to seasoned veterans. Blair has always loved a game, and it feels nice to have a chance to use her Queen of Constance powers for good. 

Also in attendance at these parties are Lily and Rufus. After laying low for most of the summer and fall (while Lily tried to extricate herself from the legal conundrum of a resurrected husband), they had started to venture out into society. Lily had taken a step back from all things Bass, Charles excepted. She didn’t want anything from Bart when he resurfaced, so she left the board of Bass Industries, and cut out any other business and perks she might have kept as Bart Bass’ widow. As one of the two heiresses of the Rhodes fortune, it’s not like she needed it anyways. 

For Lily, the only part of her relationship to Bart that was worth keeping was Chuck, having him as her family. This gratified Chuck for two reasons: one, he did love Lily very much, and relied on her probably more than he realized; two, Lily’s affection for him vexed Bart. 

The only potential sticky spot then for Chuck’s relationship with Lily was the husband she chose, but, given that that choice also vexed Bart, Chuck is, perhaps not friendly, but as cordial to Rufus as he ever was. And the rest of Manhattan’s elite, it seemed, were also on Rufus Humphrey’s side. When Blair thinks about it, she is really not all that surprised. Lily’s substantial societal influence aside, Rufus had garnered enough popularity over the past few years simply by being himself: kind, charismatic, self-deprecating enough to not be a threat to UES egos, and, perhaps most importantly, unfailingly generous. In a world full of schemers, Rufus Humphrey is a man entirely without guile. True enough, he was—is always kind and generous to Blair, even after everything she’s put his own kids through. 

When she sees the Van der Humphreys out together now, she notices how well-matched they seem to be. Though no amount of time will ever make Rufus appear at ease in society functions, the ease of their partnership—how well they fit together—is obvious. Blair will watch them at the galas and soirées and cocktail parties and feel an almost wistful kind of envy. She supposes that she should reflect on that, but then the new year comes, and she is swept up in the start of the semester and the ramp up to New York Fashion Week. 

In the spring, Blair wraps up fashion week and her midterms feeling like she’s on top of the world. Her grades are perfect, her mother is borderline proud of her work at Waldorf Designs, and she and Chuck are finally in a good place. She can’t imagine anything that would shake her, which is usually the universe’s cue to wreak havoc. Sure enough, her phone buzzes. She reads the alert, and a siren sounds inside her soul. 

_Spotted: A Lonely Boy arriving at Grand Central Station. D’s been living in exile ever since our favorite ex-princess gave him the slip. Do S and B know their former flame is back in town? I for one can’t wait to see who burns up first. XOXO._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A cliffhanger Gossip Girl blast?! Sorry, I couldn't resist. 
> 
> Thank you all for sticking with me with this story, writing it really has been such a joy and I am so excited to share more of it with you!
> 
> Stay tuned for the next work when it comes out! I am working on it now and hope to have the first chapter up in a couple weeks.


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